


secrets under lock and key (little white lies)

by johnnlaurenss



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animals, Fluff, M/M, Work Contains Fan(s) or Fandom(s), alex is a sad fangirl, enjoltaire as a plot device, john is a nerdy animal lover, they are both rly cute and dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9538133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnlaurenss/pseuds/johnnlaurenss
Summary: Okay, so in hindsight Alex supposed he's not the best in a crisis.It's starts like this: he's sitting in one of the bean bag chairs at the library, text books on either side, laptop perched on his knees, clutching his phone close to his face. This is usual for him; often times he'll come to the library just for the bean bag chairs secluded in the tiny study rooms. Naturally, he doesn't use these rooms and this spot for studying. No, he's found that these bean bag chairs are horrible to try and study in. But they're excellent to read fic in.*In which Alex learns he should keep his mouth shut, and John is the one to come to his rescue.





	

Okay, so in hindsight Alex supposed he's _not_ the best in a crisis.

 

It's starts like this: he's sitting in one of the bean bag chairs at the library, text books on either side, laptop perched on his knees, clutching his phone close to his face. This is usual for him; often times he'll come to the library just for the bean bag chairs secluded in the tiny study rooms. Naturally, he doesn't use these rooms and this spot for studying. No, he's found that these bean bag chairs are horrible to try and study in. But they're _excellent_ to read fic in.

 

And today, his favorite author had posted the final installment of the fic that was currently _ruining his life._

 

That's how it starts. It continues with Alex, burying himself in the chair, clutching his phone, and trying really hard to cry quietly. He didn't realize that this installment was going to make him bawl his eyes out, else he would have waited until he was in the sanctuary of his own bed to read it. Instead, he's in a halfway secluded library room drowning himself in tears and trying to wrap himself into the bean bag chair, hiccuping pitifully.

 

He really needs to read the archive warnings of fics before he starts reading them. Maybe then he'll stop blindly surging in to fics that contain major character death and thus the death of Alex's _entire existence_.

 

He's still crying when he finally reaches the last line.

 

In the fic, Grantaire lets go of Enjolras's hand.

 

In reality, Alex says goodbye to his soul, heart, and dignity.

 

He puts his phone down and unabashedly lets the sobs shake him until he's hiccuping again and making sad sobbing sounds. This is why he is glad he comes to the library alone.

 

But that's not where it ends.

 

It continues with his sad sobbing sounds eventually catching the attention from someone walking past his room at that particular moment, someone whose heart is too big to ignore the sounds of a person obviously devastated; someone who knocks on the doorway to Alex’s secluded study room before walking in.

 

_Here_ is where Alex learns he's not good in a crisis.

 

"Are you okay?" the guy asks in alarm.

 

Alex is sure he looks a mess, pathetic. He's thrown his hair into some half-assed bun earlier when the fic had taken a turn for the worse. He's wearing a sweatshirt that hasn't been washed properly in probably a few months. It's also very likely not his, since it's two sizes too large and drowns him. And, of course, there's the matter of him bawling his heart out that likely doesn't make him seem very put together.

 

Which is shitty. Because the boy at the door who couldn't mind his own business is seriously beautiful. Alex supposes, _this sounds like my life._

 

"Um," Alex says cleverly. He's glad he's at least got his laptop in his lap so it at least _looks_ like he was trying to study.

 

The boy comes into the room, slowly. "I'm John," he says. "You don't have to tell me what’s going on if you don't want. I just don't think you should be crying."

 

"Why?" Alex practically wails. He asks before he can stop himself, but he's still crying uncontrollably.

 

John shrugs. "Pretty boys like you should never cry."

 

Okay, so in yet _another_ hindsight Alex really shouldn't have been encouraging the advances of a beautiful boy at a moment he was crying hysterically. But he’s never been one to turn down the advances of beautiful boys. His plan is to flirt back.

 

Instead, Alex starts to cry harder. For what it’s worth, John is instantly panicked.

 

"God, I'm sorry!" he rushes to say. "I don't - I didn't have to mean anything by it, I was just trying to make you smile!"

 

Alex kind of laughs maniacally at that. "You're sweet," he manages to say. "I'm Alex."

 

He shakes the hand John offers him. It's warm and soft and _nice_.

 

John lets go of his hand.

 

Alex tries not to think of the fic. He fails. And starts to cry _really_ hard again.

 

John once again shoots him this alarmed look. It's endearing in a way that Alex would probably appreciate more if he wasn't _sobbing_.

 

"Alex!" John shouts. His hands flutter uselessly next to Alex, unsure of what to do next. "Okay, seriously, tell me what's wrong?"

 

_This_ is where Alex should have kept his mouth shut.

 

"My pet died," he blurts out, and in the moment he's incredibly proud of his lie. John looks at him with these heartbroken eyes, and Alex thinks, _I don't ever want to see that look on his face again_. "I'm sorry. It's dumb. I'll be fine."

 

John wraps his hands around Alex's, effectively stopping the wringing motion Alex wasn't aware he was doing. "Don't be sorry," he says, voice full of sympathy and sadness. "It's always sad. I work with animals, I'm studying to be a marine biologist. I work at the zoo. When one of mine dies, it... I get it. I'm sorry."

 

Well, _fuck_.

 

Here's where hindsight comes up and punches Alex in the face.

 

_Dumbass_ , it sneers at him.

 

_I know!_ Alex wails back.

 

" _Fuck_ ," he mutters under his breath. John is still holding his hands. "Um. Thank you."

 

John's still staring at him with his sad sympathy eyes. "Come on," he says softly. "I know a place that will cheer you up. Are you - can you leave?"

 

Alex's brain short-circuits for a moment. "Uh," he says, glancing at the text books and his laptop. His backpack is somewhere in the room too, tossed haphazardly when Alex had thrown himself onto the bean bag chair earlier. "Yeah. I can leave."

 

He hiccups again. The tears are mostly drying on his cheeks now, eyes feeling swollen and dry. He's at once struck with the realization that he looks like a disaster.

 

John looks all put together and shit, his curls pulled neatly into a ponytail, sweater not crinkled at all and a collared shirt poking out from underneath it. John looks like a grad student with a future in his hands. Alex looks like a homeless orphan.

 

Hindsight is a _bitch_.

 

John gently hands Alex his backpack and together they put away the books Alex still needs, his laptop, and then collect the books he won't be taking with him. John hands Alex his backpack and shifts the extra books in his hand. He gives Alex a soft smile.

 

Why is he so _nice_?

 

Alex makes another mental note of that. Alex is an asshole, capital-A Asshole, and John is _nice_ and _smart_ and _put together_ and fucking _beautiful_. Alex thinks maybe he could have impressed John if circumstances were different. Instead, John thinks that Alex has a dead pet and a conscience. Alex has _neither_.

 

They walk about of the study room together, John putting the library books back on the return cart. Alex grips his backpack tight. John eventually coaxes him outside, where the sun is bright but it's horrendously cold. It reminds him of the fic again, and he starts to cry all over again. John wraps an arm around Alex's waist and pulls him close as they walk.

 

"Tell me about it," he murmurs softly, and Alex has a heart attack.

 

For a second, he thinks John is asking about the fic.

 

"What?"

 

"Your pet," John prods. _Oh._

 

"Oh," Alex says. At any different time, he thinks he would have been suave and reassured, would have swept John off his feet. Instead, he's stammering over his words and crying hysterically.

 

Sexy as hell, clearly.

 

Alex still can't think straight. He says the first name that pops into his mind. "Enjolras," he blurts. The corner of John's mouth twitches.

 

"From Les Mis?" he asks. Alex wants to die.

 

He thinks about the fic again. And his fictional dead pet. And how Enjolras actually did _fucking die_. And he starts to cry all over again.

 

"Fucking _hell_ ," he wails, and John's shoulders are shaking from laughter.

 

"I'm sorry," he says in between snickers. "It's not - it's really not funny, god I'm an asshole. I just - I love that musical. I'm sorry."

 

Alex perks up at that. If John doesn't find the name of his (albeit, _fictional_ ) pet weird, then maybe he won't find Alex's undying love for the musical weird. Maybe.

 

"You do?" Alex says. "It's - um, my favorite."

 

That's an understatement. But Alex thinks that saying, _it's my favorite to the point I've long passed obsession and also I read fic about two of the characters and sob like I've lost a lover when one of them dies in alternate universes_ is a bit extreme.

 

Yeah, he'll stick with his understatement, thank you very much.

 

John's hand squeezes at Alex's waist. His smile is warm and radiant and soft. "Mine, too," he reassures Alex. Alex beams. "Enjolras, was he...?"

 

Oh yes, Alex is still in the middle of a lie. "Uhhh," Alex says. All he can think of is that John's a marine biologist, so he tries to think of something impressive along that line. He somehow thinks that the death of a fish isn't sad enough. "Enjolras was my turtle."

 

John's eyebrow quirks at that. "Turtle," he repeats, slowly. Alex must sound like a dumbass. And he really needs to learn he's _shit_ in a crisis.

 

"Yes?" Alex says, maybe a bit defensively.

 

John gives him another gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry that you lost him," John murmurs. Alex thinks, _I didn't lose him, Grantaire did, when that horrible author killed him off._

 

He's proud of the fact that he doesn't start to outright _sob_ again.

 

John hushes him when he starts to cry though, and quickly ushers him into a building he can't quite catch a glimpse of.

 

"Where-" he starts, but the question dies in his throat as he takes in his surroundings.

 

He's at an animal shelter.

 

John's bouncing on his heels. "I volunteer here sometimes," he explains, "especially on days when I feel like I need a little extra cheering up. The dogs are always playful, and the kittens are angels. Don’t go near the birds though. They're satanists. Of course, we have the fish tank back here. There's July, the owner's pet tortoise."

 

Alex halts as a large, sluggish tortoise meanders by them. The tortoise raises its head slightly, blinks at Alex, and continues on his way.

 

"Ah," Alex stammers. He's glad he at least _likes_ animals now. Two years ago and he never had any desire to come in contact with them. "Thank you?”

 

John scratches at the back of his neck, suddenly seeming unsure of himself. "We can leave," he says out of nowhere. Alex shoots him a surprised look. "I guess. I'm, uh. I'm now realizing it was kind of douchey for me to bring you to a place with all these animals. If you want to leave, we can... Um. You can."

 

Alex realizes that John is thinking that he's about to make a run for it and leave forever. Alex thinks, _you're a dumbass, John, because I'm not leaving your hot ass for anything_. Alex stretches out a hand and smiles when John takes it. “I’m good,” he says, and he is. Even if this wasn’t number one on his list of things he wanted to do, he’s good where he is.

 

They play with puppies. Alex’s heart explodes when John cuddles one until it falls asleep. Alex thinks, _hell, I’d adopt that puppy if it meant John would come over to play with it_. He doesn’t say as much. He’s learning to keep his mouth shut in a crisis, instead of blurting out dumbass lies.

 

Though, he’s beginning to think, he _has_ successfully adverted the crisis. John intertwines their fingers and smiles when Alex can’t take his eyes off of their twined hands. Yeah, he still looks like a mess and there’s the fact that John is, like, a _thousand_ times better than him. And yeah, there’s the fact that whatever is happening between them is based on a white lie, and that one day Alex would have to confess.

 

Alex thinks, _Enjolras didn’t die for this._

 

John says, “What are you thinking about?”

 

“Enjolras,” Alex answers honestly. At least John will think he’s talking about his fake dead turtle. John cracks a grin at that.

 

“I mean, I think about him a lot, too,” John teases, and Alex flushes. He tugs on John’s hand, but John holds steadfast and gives Alex a dopey smile. “No, I’m serious! I mean, I’m not thinking about turtle Enjolras, as I’ve only just learned of him. But the other one. I think about _him_ a lot.”

 

Alex can’t help but laugh at that. “Glad to know you have good taste,” Alex murmurs.

 

“So did Grantaire,” John mutters, mostly under his breath. Alex is pretty sure he has a stroke at that point. John freezes, looks up at Alex with wide and startled eyes, completely unaware of Alex’s impending internal meltdown.

 

Alex dives across the space between them and kisses the shit out of John Laurens.

 

“ _Yes_ ,” he practically shouts when he pulls away. “God, I knew I liked you for a reason. _God_! I’m keeping you.”

 

John lights up at that, lights up when Alex tugs on one of his curls, lights up when Alex kisses his jaw. “Oh, good,” he says, laughing when Alex bumps his nose against John’s. “I was beginning to think I was wasting my time on a cute boy who’d never return my affections.”

 

“John, you just admitted that Grantaire and Enjolras are your fantasy, how could I _not_ return your affections?” Alex demands, but he doesn’t give John a chance to answer. John just laughs against his lips.

 

Alex sends out a silent thanks to fake dead Enjolras the Turtle. _I owe you one, fake little dude,_ he thinks, and he kisses John again again and again.

 

 

* * *

 

 

They adopt two turtles, later, named Enjolras and Grantaire.

 

Alex tells John he never really had a turtle.

 

John laughs and laughs and laughs.

 

“I know,” he says, and he kisses Alex’s nose.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Alex finds out just how much of an asshole John actually is, later, four months into dating him.

 

He’s on John’s laptop, his too far away, checking his email. He’s got notification that his favorite author has posted a new story, their first in over two months. Excitedly he clicks on it, makes note to read the archive warnings _first_ , and happily continues scrolling.

 

He stops when he notices the formatting is different.

 

For one, there’s a fucking _edit_ button in the top right corner.

 

Alex frantically scrolls to the top of the screen. He’s logged onto the profile of the author.

 

“No,” Alex whispers. “ _No_!”

 

“Babe?” John calls from the kitchen.

 

“ _John fucking Laurens,_ ” Alex shouts. “Did you ever intend to tell me you write _Enjoltaire fic_ , since that fucking ship is basically the _foundation of our relationship_?!”

 

John starts laughing from the kitchen, loud and booming. Alex hears him drop a mixing bowl or a plate or something.

 

“ _Your fic is the reason we met!_ ”

 

John pokes his head out of his kitchen, shoots Alex a devilish grin. “Honestly, I’m shocked it took you this long to figure it out. Your pseud is your name, baby. It wasn’t that hard for _me_ to figure out.”

 

“ _Your fic destroyed me_!” Alex shouts. He’s crying again, but John isn’t alarmed this time. John laughs harder and turns back into the kitchen. “John Laurens, don’t you ignore me, I have questions! You don’t just get to _kill Enjolras_!”

 

 

* * *

 

 

_I owe you one, Enjolras_ , Alex thinks, much later, as John curls against his chest and sleeps soundly. John, the man he loves. _I owe you._

**Author's Note:**

> i am no longer an active part of the hamilton fandom, but if you need: you can find me on [tumblr](https://feuillyys.tumblr.com) crying abt les mis or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/tannscotts) posting about various things.
> 
>  
> 
> comment, kudos, bookmark below!


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